


Orgies for Dummies

by and_i_take_it



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 11x07, Bad Jokes, Canon Compliant, M/M, Offensive Jokes, Orgy, Penis Stereotypes, Sex crazed idiots, Terrible Jokes, They really think they got handjobs and participated in an orgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29990802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_i_take_it/pseuds/and_i_take_it
Summary: Ian and Mickey have nothing but empty space in their skulls. It's literally just air. And that's how this story begins. And ends.Alternate Summary: No one wants to fuck Seth or Theo and steam rooms are really steamy.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 20
Kudos: 125





	Orgies for Dummies

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Friends! I know it's been awhile and I promise I'm working hard on the next chapter of LIAB (really!), but I felt mighty compelled to sit down and write a silly little orgy fic this evening. I've been thinking about how this scene might have played out since I first saw it and the best way to get something out of my head is to get it on paper (which is indeed how I write these days because screens _hurt_ ). Anywho, this is just my admittedly ridiculous headcanon but I still hope you enjoy. 
> 
> This fic begins immediately after the scene where they've decided to participate in the orgy. I was too lazy to write anything at all before that. In fact, I was too lazy to write much of anything so this is nothing fancy. I'll save the good writing for LIAB. 
> 
> I've written this from no one's perspective, with no insights into either Ian or Mickey's thoughts (because there simply were none) but you can infer, like I did, that there's some jealousy and subconscious stalling.
> 
> And I know it's hard to look at, but this fic will be moderately less confusing if you reference the picture below and know these guys' names. Especially if I've confused them which is a distinct possibility. So this is their names for this fic. :)

Mickey sprinted up alongside Ian and assessed the situation like the commander of an infantry. “Alright, you take the dad bod in green, and I’ll take whichever one turns out to have the biggest dick.” He did a quick scan of the participants and fluttered a hand in the direction of the black man in dreads. “Probably him,” he decided, taking a first step forward. “Hopefully it’s big enough to make me forget he’s wearing makeup.” 

Ian pulled him back before he could make any headway. “That guy?” he hissed with a nod to the man Mickey had chosen for him. “No way I’m fucking that guy.” 

“C’mon,” Mickey scoffed, “you’ve done worse.” He ignored the scathing look Ian gave him and evaluated their mark. As frumpy and unkempt as Dad Bod was, the guy was making his case infinitely worse with his dance moves. It was clear from Ian’s upturned nose that he was not about to budge. “Fine,” Mickey relented, “who then?”

They disrobed as Ian scanned the partygoers; shirts, shoes, jeans, underwear and socks, went into neat piles at their feet. Naked, limp and uninspired, Ian finally chose after carefully weighing his limited options. “Tim,” he concluded with some confidence. However, the long pause and softer, “Maybe,” that followed left a lot of room for doubt.

Mickey pulled a face up at Ian. “ _Tim_? Which one’s that.”

“The Asian one.”

Mickey’s gaze found and locked on. By then, Tim was half dressed, his surprisingly fit chest flush against his husbands as they pulsed to the music. “He’s kinda hot actually,” Mickey observed before making a snap decision. “I changed my mind. I’ll take him.” Declaration made, he tugged on his flaccid dick and tried to get himself in gear.

Ian palmed his own dick as he objected, “You can’t do that after I picked him.”

“This was my idea. I get first pick.”

“You do know Asians have small dicks, right?” He slapped Mickey’s hand away from its fruitless labour and took over for him. “Let me.”

“You picked a guy with a small dick?” Mickey turned to grant him better access and figured, while he was there, he might as well return the favour.

“We don’t have a lot to choose from.”

“Well, you gotta pick a different one.”

Ian grunted, “Fine,” through the sensations Mickey was stirring up and decided, “Travis” was his man. He guided Mickey’s hips closer and dropped his face to his neck. 

“Again with the names?”

“Big Dick,” Ian huffed between shallow breaths. “I’m pretty sure he wants to eat my ass though and I didn’t really… _prepare_ for that.”

Mickey made a derisive noise over Ian’s shoulder that was too winded to sting and blustered, “Don’t be a pussy. Ass is supposed to taste like ass.” Ian smothered a laugh with a nip as he worked his hand a little faster. With mounting effort, Mickey continued his taunting past the rush of heat, “Fine, he can eat mine then. I’m taking him back.”

Ian wrenched his head away and squinted down at Mickey, “You don’t like that.” He shoved him around by the hips and groped roughly at his ass. “And you already picked Tim. You can’t keep changing your mind.”

“I’m not. I’ll take both. More than enough of me to go around.”

“ _Is there_?” Ian laughed.

Mickey glanced back to catch Ian’s crooked smirk. “I've got two ends don't I? Pick someone else.”

Ian dropped spit into his hand before he lifted his eyes to their surroundings. The orgy had progressed. Dicks were out. Hands and mouths were pumping. “Uhhh… Brendan,” he offered distractedly. Mickey shot him a look and he clarified, “The blond sucking on Big Dick’s shoulder.”

“Really, that guy?” Mickey bent at the waist when he felt Ian’s dick split his cheeks.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Nothin’,” Mickey shrugged, “he just gives me a top vibe.”

“Then why…,” Ian grunted, breaching Mickey’s hole, “did you pick _Tim_? They’re a couple. They can’t both be tops.”

“What, that’s some kinda rule?” 

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll take both just in case,” Mickey concluded through clenched teeth. Ian’s thrusts had begun and words were an increasing challenge. 

Ian chuckled at his nerve, yanked him upright and held him there by his neck, “Travis, Tim, _and_ Brendan? That’s three. You can’t have three, Mickey.”

“Three of these losers is like one regular guy. You still get Dad Bod and-” 

“Seth…,” Ian interrupted to correct, “or maybe Theo.”

Mickey could barely see Dad Bod with his neck craned like it was, but he choked out an opinion, “Looks more like a Seth.”

“You think so? Picture him as a _Theodore_ , though.”

“Ah, yeah,” Mickey conceded, his voice punctuated by the force of Ian’s thrusts, “definitely a Theodore.”

A hand slid across Ian’s back then, stilling his hips and snapping his head up. It was Big Dick Travis, flashing eyes at them and whispering, “Ready to have some fun?” in a way that one could only assume was meant to be sexy.

They barked, “No,” in unison, wiping the lewd grin from Travis’ face. Ian softened their response by adding, “Give us a minute, we’re just sorting some stuff out.” 

Travis mouthed, “Okay,” as he backed away, giving the couple exaggerated side eyes when he turned to face his friends. 

Their bargaining and fucking promptly resumed, with Mickey summarizing, “So you get _Theodore_ , that… fuckin’ weirdo…,” he gestured at the giant to Theo’s left, “and...” he cranked his head to see the remainder of the six, a string-bean that, against all odds, looked like he might know how to fuck. “Actually, I better take that last guy too.” 

“C’mon,” Ian complained, “at least try to be fair. Give me him and Travis and you can have Seth and Theo.”

“Fuck that. My ass ain’t gettin’ stuck with the kids from the short bus.”

“You’ll still have Tim and Brendan.” Mickey’s annoyed humph made Ian’s grip on his neck tighten. “That’s _four_ guys, Mickey.”

“They’re worth three quarters of a regular guy,” he griped. “At most.”

“We can draw straws.”

“Fine.”

As one, they shuffled the few steps to the dinner table, where Ian slipped his hand to the back of Mickey’s neck and slammed him flat onto the surface. Mickey smiled as the silverware clanged with every pound he got from behind. They grappled for straws in between lunges, until they’d gotten their hands on enough for their game. Mickey sawed one in half with someone’s steak knife and handed it back to Ian. 

Amid his huffing and moaning, Ian got to the rules, “Okay, whoever pulls the short straw first gets Seth, Theo and Jon.”

Mickey groaned with both pleasure and annoyance. “Who the fuck is _Jon_?”

“The… Mexican?” Ian guessed. “Or… Indian? I’m not sur-”

“Brown. Just say brown.”

“I think that might be racist.”

“How is that racist? It’s a _colour_.”

“I don’t know, just draw a fucking straw.” He extended his fist out to Mickey with the half dozen straws they’d collected jutting out. 

Mickey had to concentrate to coordinate his hand with Ian’s and he snatched two straws by mistake. Both were long and he rumbled a brazen laugh as he held them up for Ian to see. “Your turn, bitch.”

Ian drew the next straw and let out a long, fractured sigh when the very first one he picked was short.

“Fuckin’ A,” Mickey gasped. “Have fun with Laurel and Hardy.”

Ian gritted out, “Fuck you,” and held Mickey down again so he could drive himself deeper. As swanky dinnerware rattled and glasses toppled to the ground, Ian panted, “I think I’m gonna come.”

“Same,” Mickey wheezed.

They finished within seconds of each other and stood frozen in their post coital bliss long enough for the claps and whistles from their audience to register. 

Ian bent to Mickey’s ear and whispered, “Can we _please_ leave now?”

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey agreed, pulling a clean plate from the destruction on the table and shoving it into Ian’s hands, “but load this up with duck on the way out.”

___

At home and near ready to turn in, Mickey reclined against the wall behind their bed and wagged his brows, “That orgy was fun, huh?”

Prone beside him, Ian glanced up and shrugged. “Yeah, it was okay. But did you uh… did you notice that we kinda only fucked each other?”

Mickey lifted an indifferent shoulder. “I guess.”

“And now that I think about it,” Ian continued, sitting up and leaning against the wall beside Mickey, “earlier, in the steam room, I’m pretty sure we just jerked each other off while we argued about who was going to jerk who off.”

“Nah, someone took over for you at the end.”

“That was just me adjusting my grip.”

“I came on the hot one’s leg though.”

Ian tilted his head against the wall and sighed, “Still me.”

“Huh,” Mickey mused, “it was really hard to see in there.”

“Yeah, so much steam." Ian picked at loose strings on his joggers and avoided eye contact. “I dunno…,” he began, “it’s just got me thinking that maybe we’re not all that into having sex with other people.”

“You think?” 

“I mean, I didn’t really want to fuck anyone else today, did you?”

“Not really.” They were silent for a moment, resting their skulls on the drywall and contemplating the day they’d had, until Mickey reflected, “Fucking in front of ‘em wasn't bad though. They seemed to enjoy it.”

Ian returned his gaze with a hopeful smile. “So then maybe that’s our thing?” he wondered, resting a hand on Mickey’s knee. “I mean, down the road, who knows, but at least for now… it might be cool if it was just us.” 

Mickey draped his hand over Ian’s and gave a small squeeze. “Yeah, okay, maybe down the road then.”

“Like… way, waaaaay down the road.”

Mickey’s lips compressed into a playful smirk, “Pussy.”

“Pussy?” Ian repeated, growing wide-eyed. “My dirty asshole says you’re the pussy.”

“Oh, it’s good enough for me to lick is it? You think I won’t?”

“Dare ya.” 

“The way you were rippin’ ‘em in the cab you better make that a double dare.”

“Fine. I double dare you.”

They bounded off the wall and scrambled to get Ian’s pants and underwear down. Absent of any shame of any kind, Ian presented his ass to Mickey for his eating pleasure. When Mickey spread Ian’s cheeks he groaned and swore, “Christ, there’s ass-wipe stuck in the folds.”

“Adds flavour,” Ian hummed. “And texture.”

Mickey leant as close as he dared and stretched the tip of his tongue. When it touched home, he couldn’t supress a gag. When he stuck his tongue in with more determination, it happened again. And again. Until he had no choice but to make a beeline for the bathroom with Ian yelling, “Pussy!” in his wake.

After he’d brushed and returned, he avoided Ian’s smug face by relaxing into his arms and laying his head atop his shoulder. “Hey, at least we’re both pussies,” Ian gloated.

“Fuck you,” Mickey muttered. “I pounded down a duck tonight. I was already nauseous.”

“Yeeeaah,” Ian teased, pulling him in a little tighter.

They stayed that way for a long while, together and listening to the unnatural silence in the house that hadn’t lifted since Lip’s tirade. Perhaps they took that time to ponder why on _earth_ they had thought that fucking other people was for them but, more likely, there were no thoughts in their heads whatsoever. 

When they eventually pulled away for sleep, Mickey curled toward the wall and gave voice to some final dumbassary before slumber, “Remind me to teach you how to wipe your ass tomorrow.”

And Ian, in the way that only they could manage, replied with the purest, “Shut the fuck up,” that, to anyone's ears it reached, would have sounded _exactly_ like “I love you”.


End file.
